Fallback
by jaylis
Summary: Absence made his heart grow fonder, but her love for him decayed faster. Edward returns after leaving Bella in New Moon and finds a girl much changed. AU
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Twilight, of course, belongs to Stephenie Meyer, and the rest of us can only wish that we owned Edward.

**Fallback**

**Part I:**

"Hey, check _him _out."

Pivoting as she balanced a metal tray in her hands, the waitress took a glance and instantly discovered that the view was far from disappointing.

"Well, hello gorgeous," she whispered appreciatively and turned to her friend. "Is he for like real? I mean, totally male model right?"

"We'll soon find out," the other girl replied and made her way to the targeted male. "May I help you, sir?"

The young man looked up, and the girl found herself riveted to his gaze. His eyes were amber, she decided, like a glass of cognac brandy.

"Just the check please," he said.

She automatically reached for his plate before stopping in confusion. He had not eaten the French toast at all, and the coffee mug beside it was still filled to the brim.

"Sorry, not much of an appetite today," he explained, standing and plucking a twenty from his wallet. He was nearly out the door when suddenly, he moved toward the counter in a rapid flash. His pale hand snatched the newspaper off the marble tabletop, and his eyes scanned the words desperately. For a moment, the girl felt unreasonably frightened by the way his irises darkened like a storm and how his lips had twisted into a slight snarl.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

The muscles in his face relaxed; the bone structure that had seemed so angular just a second ago became angelic.

"Nothing," he said in an almost light tone. "The headline story surprised me, that's all. It's about this billionaire's marriage, and his bride just happens to be a girl I knew once."

Long after the young man had left and their shifts had ended, the two waitresses sat down at a booth to rest and eagerly spread out the day's newspaper.

"It was so weird," Paula commented. "He was all calm and pleasant one minute, and then he got all upset at seeing this. What do you think she means to him?"

"She's definitely an ex-girlfriend," Kimberly said expertly. "A past lover, maybe a previous fiancée. And…he hasn't gotten over her."

"I bet he was the one who broke up with her, and now he regrets it," Paula mused. "Why do you think he left her?"

"Because her cooking sucked."

Giggling, the two girls cleaned up, turned off the lights, and thought no more of the mysterious stranger.

* * *

Elongated shadows danced across the walls of the gallery, and Edward felt as if he were surrounded by ghosts. Maneuvering his way through the clusters of people, he managed to locate Alice in one of the smaller rooms where she was viewing a series of sketches. The figures drawn with charcoal were a man and a woman in close embrace, fingers tracing each other's cheeks.

"She's captured you in art," Alice remarked, aware of her brother's presence behind her. "Have you seen her yet?"

_**No, but we should leave. I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't be intruding into her life again.**_

Alice scowled at him. _**Fine, be your tortured self. Whatever, it's not like you can stop me from seeing Bella. **_

_**Alice, don't!**_

His slim, spiky-haired sister darted away in a blur of ivory limbs. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Edward headed back to the art gallery's main corridor. As he searched for Alice, his mind sifted through the flood of thoughts around him, trying to sense Alice among the throng. And then he felt it, felt the abrupt burst of alarm in Alice.

_**What's wrong?**_

Her widened dark eyes met his. _**Edward, there are other vampires coming, and they're not just random nomads.**_

_**Then who are they?**_

Alice appeared beside him, and to his shock, she looked afraid. "The Volturi are coming."

* * *

"My dear girl, you don't look very excited for a brilliant artist who's about to have her first major exhibition."

Bella Swan turned her face away from the tinted car window and smiled at the vampire sitting next to her.

"You know, before I met you," she said. "I always imagined that vampires would be more interested in my blood and not my rubbish paintings."

Aro laughed and responded, "I have always been a patron of the arts. I greatly enjoy finding new talent, and you certainly have potential."

Bella moved closer, and a shudder of pleasure ran through the ancient vampire as her scent filled him. "Careful, old man," she whispered. "The others will think you're spoiling me."

His eyes closed, Aro nodded. "All in good time, all in good time."

The car had stopped, and the chauffeur opened the door with a tilt of his cap. As Bella slid one stiletto heel out of the car, she paused, recalling her old clumsiness.

"_Edward! How could you not tell me that we're going to prom?" _

_They were in the limo, and he was laughing as she stubbornly refused to get out of the car. _

_"If I had told you, you wouldn't have worn that dress, and I would be deprived of the most lovely sight in all my one hundred years," he told her, his lips skimming her neck._

_"But I can't dance with one foot in a cast," Bella insisted. "My clumsiness is dangerous enough without being half-crippled."_

_"I'll support you," Edward answered. "And if I have to, I'll carry you inside."_

_Her cheeks turned red, and she warned him, "You won't enjoy this. I'll fall on you when we're dancing."_

_"You'll lean on me," he corrected. "And I'll support you."_

"Ahem," the chauffeur said delicately. "Miss Swan?"

Bella blinked. "Sorry, I'm just kind of…nervous."

Behind her, Aro chuckled and placed a hand on her bare shoulder. "Don't fret, child. I'll support you."

She turned away from him and said nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**PART II:**

Bella is twenty, and sometimes she still looks seventeen, but tonight, she presents herself not as some girl from an obscure background, but as a sophisticate. As she enters the gallery, a small group of people move forward to greet her, and Aro whispers the name of each V.I.P. into her ear as she automatically smiles warmly, kisses their cheeks, and shakes their hands. It has become a routine.

One man, the curator for some big museum, tries to tease her. "Isabella is such a formal name for a young lady. Perhaps we should call you Bella instead?"

Bella is careful to insist, "No, Isabella is really what I prefer."

Yes, tonight she will be Isabella, who behaves as if she were actually old enough to have a legal cocktail. Isabella has poise and good posture. Isabella has wit and charm. Most of all, Isabella has the allure that is expected of the wife of a prominent man and none of the clumsiness that had cursed her teenage years.

She's actually having a good time until one of the high society wives ask her, "So tell us dear, how did you and Aro meet? I'll bet that it's an absolutely scandalous story."

Bella's smile feels overstretched. "Oh yes, in fact, he seduced me while I was still just an insignificant student in art school."

She snags a whiskey sour from a passing waiter and winks at Aro over the rim of the glass. "I would've rejected you darling to focus on my studies, but you were just so vigorous." Her voice ends silkily on the hiss of the 's'. She turns back to the woman. "What about you, Irene? Where did you meet your man?"

Irene blushes as her own question backfires, and members of their exclusive circle giggle callously at her discomfort. It's common knowledge that Irene's pedigree wasn't of blue blood either. The real sinker was not that she married up, but that she was her husband's former maid, and no one in society let her forget it.

On the outside, Bella is smirking in triumph. On the inside, guilt stings her, and she's never felt so bitchy in her entire life. Quietly excusing herself, she leaves in search of better company and is immediately accosted by Heidi. At first glance, Heidi appears as if she had just crawled out of bed and thrown a boyfriend's shirt on, but with the belt cinched around the waist, it was a flattering look, showcasing her amazingly long legs.

"You're unhappy," Heidi notices right away. "That means you haven't had enough alcohol."

Initially, Bella recalls, she had felt wary of the female vampire, who constantly partied throughout the night and came back with smeared lipstick in the morning.

_"It's in her nature to act that way," Aro explained after Heidi stumbled back into their penthouse one night, smelling of cigarettes and human sweat. "She's not one of the Volturi guard really. Previously, she was Caius's lover."_

_They had been sitting in the library; Aro was reading one of his history texts, and Bella was browsing the shelves, but upon hearing his statement, she faced him with a puzzled look._

_"You mean when she was human?"_

_He nodded. "Caius met her in France during the 18__th__ century. She was a remarkably famous and sought after courtesan. All of the red-blooded males in the royal court were enchanted by her."_

_The story piqued Bella's curiosity. "So how was it that Caius became interested in a human?"_

_"Caius is unlike other vampires," Aro said. "Mostly, we find one mate and live with that one for eternity. Caius, however, prefers to juggle a continual series of mistresses. Like a child who sees what all of the other children are playing with, Caius saw how Heidi was desired by so many and decided that he would win her. He wooed her for a month and a day, and by the end, she was deeply in love with him."_

_"But it didn't last?"_

_"Of course not. Within a fortnight of realizing that he had won the prize, he became infatuated with a little shepherdess that he saw on the street. Nevertheless, he kept Heidi and even turned her into one of us. Although he had disposed of the other women, Caius resolved that Heidi and her devotion to him were useful."_

Somehow, after that night, the two women had become friends. It was appropriate, Bella had decided, since they were not so different after all.

"So Bells," Heidi says with her usual wicked smile. "What mischief shall you and I stir up tonight?"

Bella doesn't protest as Heidi drags her out of the gallery. At a nearby club, they head to the bar for a round of drinks and then to the dancing floor where straying hands abound. Surprising herself, Bella does nothing even when one man slides up behind her, and she continues it further by pressing into his pelvis. His right hand wanders from her waist to her thigh. She closes her eyes, sighs. She's been doing this a lot recently, and every time she does, she understands Heidi's ceaseless partying.

When they finally leave the place, Bella is thoroughly drunk, giggling as Heidi puts a cocktail umbrella into her hair.

"I can't believe you got me to miss my own exhibition!" Bella says, but her accusation possesses no anger. After all, she knows that it was more her conscious decision than Heidi's persuasion.

"Would you rather be stuck with all those snobs?" Heidi retorts. "They'll still be there anyway, probably talking about stocks and politics."

The two women are halfway across the street to the gallery when a car speeds out of nowhere, and all Bella can do is stare, paralyzed, into the headlights as the vehicle accelerates. A pair of strong, almost steel-like arms encloses around her and pulls her away just as the car flies past. For a moment, Bella remains frozen, her heartbeat pounding; she feels like a trapped bird because her savior is still holding onto her with a vice-like grip.

"Bella?"

She knows that voice. Oh god, she knows that voice.

Slowly, Bella turns around and meets the oh so familiar golden eyes of a past long abandoned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III:**

He had expected that Bella would've changed by now. He had prepared himself to meet a transformed person. Still, the woman in front of him barely resembles Bella at all, and he finds himself utterly unprepared. She seems thinner than ever with cheekbones protruding. Her eyes are dark and massive, enhanced with mascara and shadow. Her outfit, a little black dress with long lace sleeves and black tights, is entirely urban.

Self-consciously, Bella takes out the cocktail umbrella from her hair and feels a flooding sense of embarrassment. _Fate is cruel_, she thinks, _to allow him to come back now and see me drunk and silly. I bet he can even smell that guy at the club on me._

Indeed, Edward smells all too much on her. He had wanted to see her again, to just catch a glimpse of her and make sure she was happy, but at the sight and scent of this Bella, he can barely control his irritation.

"What have you been doing Bella?" Edward asks quietly.

She hears the accusation in his tone, and almost flinches before coldly replying, "Don't. Just don't."

"Is this what you do now?" he demands. "You just skipped your own exhibition to get drunk?"

Bella's eyes glare as she spits out, "Stop it! You don't even know me Edward! You don't know me now so how could you possibly understand me?"

Gazing at Edward and feeling anger is foreign to her, but she is angry, incredibly angry at his arrogance, his casual way of just waltzing back into her life.

"You shouldn't have come back," she tells him. As soon as the words come out of her mouth, she cannot bear to look at him because she knows the damage she has just inflicted.

_At least now, he understands rejection._

She allows Heidi to pull her away, and upon returning to the gallery, she searches for a room where she can be alone.

Bella ends up in front of "A Night at the Theatre." It's one of her most surreal paintings, and she never was sure if she loved it or hated it. Parted red curtains revealed a stage set with bizarre characters: a maiden clutching onto a marble statue, a wolf gnawing on a skeleton's leg, and two harlequins, one smiling, one frowning.

_Tonight is a tragedy._

Bella sobs as the lights go out.

* * *

Two days later, Bella is smiling again because Julian Crawford is a photographer who doesn't take no for an answer.

"You're going to be in Vogue," he reminds her. "The tortured artist act is dead. People want to see someone vibrant so give me a smile, doll face, a genuine smile."

Bella tries, but the whole thing is too unnatural. Julian has her posing in a ball gown for fashion's sake, and she feels ridiculous because no one wears designer dresses while painting.

Her cell phone buzzes, and it's Aro's secretary calling about a client who wants to schedule a lunch.

_Unusual request,_ Bella thinks. "Why?"

"Well, he purchased three of your paintings last night, and he said he's very curious about you."

Julian is beckoning for her to hurry up. "Hold on, what's his name?"

"I believe it is Mr. Masen, Mr. Anthony Masen."

Bella scowls to herself. _Oh very clever Edward._

* * *

In the rare moments when Heidi was unhappy, Caius was usually the reason. Just arriving from Italy, the vampire had unwisely brought along his newest plaything. Her name was of yet unknown because whenever Caius addressed her, he called her "pet."

Fidgeting in her seat, Bella glances up at the clock. _Time to decide if I should go see him or not._

At last, she gets up and politely excuses herself from the company. With a stiff smile, Heidi rises too and follows her.

"You cannot leave me alone with him and his pre-adolescent whore!" Heidi hisses, grabbing Bella's arm.

"I'm sorry, but I have to meet someone," Bella murmurs distractedly, and she's halfway out the door when Caius appears.

"Would you girls be so kind as to allow Lola to accompany you?" he asks, his eyes glinting. "America is very unfamiliar for my poor pet. I had hoped that you, Heidi, could especially act as a surrogate mother for Lola."

"Bastard," Heidi mutters under her breath, but gives Caius and Lola a sickly sweet smile and acquiesces.

* * *

_She's not coming._

Edward buries his head in his hands. Looking back, he regrets confronting her, cornering her. And now, she would never want to see him again.

"Mr. Masen?"

Edward freezes and lifts his head. Bella stands in front of him, dressed in a simple cream coat. Her expression is guarded, cautious, but she sits down and looks him in the eye.

"I believe you wanted to talk about my artwork?"

They begin.


	4. Chapter 4

**Fallback**

**Part IV:**

She's gazing more intently at his hand than her menu. Finally she reaches over, comparing her wrist to his.

"Amazing," Bella remarks with a humorless smile. "You got a tan."

Indeed, they are the palest pair in the room, but her milky skin appears ever so slightly whiter than his.

"Two years in South America," Edward explains before the conversation dies yet again.

Gilded, Edward decides, is the most accurate adjective for describing their chosen restaurant. Everything, from the curtains to the food to even the patrons, seems so carefully presented. His appetizer is served with a radish rosebud, which he dissects absentmindedly. Edward cannot help but turn an inspective eye toward Bella herself. She applied makeup, he notes. The dramatic colors make her look like a half-starved waif with long, feathery eyelashes and a red bow for a mouth. She's not touching the food either, but her wine glass is being refilled.

He remembers that Bella used to tell him about how he dazzled her, but now, she looks at him apathetically while picking at her salad. She's overpowering him with this aloof persona, who wears pristine designer clothes and a gold Cartier watch.

"Do you like it?" Bella asks suddenly, flashing the watch in his face.

"It's very pretty," Edward answers; he realizes he's having lunch with a mannequin. "What do you do now, other than painting?"

"Charity functions."

"Ah, to the outstanding citizen," he raises his glass to her. "Let me guess: your other hobbies include wine tasting and visiting the spa?"

Annoyance rises up in her again as she hears his condescending tone. She had wanted to come here and show him that she was independent now, that she was no longer clinging onto the memory of him. Instead, this meeting is fast becoming a nightmarish reunion, and Bella gives up on being subtle.

"What do you want, Edward?"

Quietly, he demands, "Are you ever going to tell me that you hate me for what I did?"

Bella's fingers dig into the tablecloth. "Is that what you're waiting for?"

A strange intensity burns in his eyes, and the words rush out. "I don't know what I've been waiting for. Two years, I wasted two years among cobwebs and shadows, willing myself to stop thinking of your face. In the end, I couldn't do it so I traveled back to Forks."

She wants to get up, leave, and run away because she knows where this is going, and the past is not a happy place for her.

"When I went back," Edward continues, "I discovered to my horror that nobody seemed to remember you. I stood on your doorstep for two hours, insisting to your father that he had a daughter called Bella Swan, but all he gave me were confused looks and finally a closed door. Some of our old classmates, the ones who had known you faintly such as Lauren and Jessica, recalled you just as faintly. But the people, who had known you best, were completely unaware of the girl for whom I was searching."

Bella's eyes are closed, and for a moment, it seems as if she's about to cry, but a harsh laugh comes out instead.

"You were too late Edward," she tells him. "Two years too late."

From her silver bag, she pulls out a folder and gives it to him. Opening it, Edward realizes that she has filled the folder with sketches…of him.

"After you left without a goodbye, my greatest fear was that I would forget you. Since you stole all of my photos, I had no tangible memory of your face so I started drawing. I must've sketched you a hundred times, but no angle looked perfect enough."

_She couldn't stop. All she needed, she repeated to herself, was one flawless picture of Edward. So she made her own memories, not only of him, but of his family. How could she forget Alice…and Emmett…and Carlisle? _

_Bella had never taken art classes before. She hadn't even bothered to take art in school, but she taught herself about symmetry and proportion. She learned how to make a cheek seem hollow or round, how to give hair a healthy shine, and how to make eyes sparkle. She expanded her focus and began drawing anyone who would sit still long enough. It was an obsession, no doubt, but one her father encouraged, believing it to be a sign of recovery. _

_Indeed, Bella realized, she became a slightly normal human being again, but the catalyst of her healing was not so much painting; rather, it was Jacob who insistently tugged her back to Earth. She loved him, sort of, because it was hard not to love someone so devoted. As a gift, he built her an easel, and when she kissed him, she finally understood that this was someone with whom she could lead a happy life and trust to never leave her. _

_Yet, the pure possibility of another chance at love scared Bella so she took the art school scholarship and fled to the city. There, fate intervened one cloudy afternoon, and she spotted a young boy, no older than nine, feeding pigeons in a park. He was the most beautiful child she had ever seen. When she asked for permission to sketch him, a cherub smile lit his face. Then, the boy's guardian arrived, and after perusing Bella's drawings, the man asked her to have lunch with him the next day._

"That man was Aro," Bella says softly. "I have to admit, he impressed me. In one meeting, he seemed to talk about everything – art, history, good and evil. From his appearance, I knew he was a vampire and his untouched food confirmed it. He wanted to see me again, and I agreed, but first, I headed back to Forks to visit my father…and Jake."

_Bella observed right away that Jake was more distant. Still, they had fun together, jumping cliffs and riding motorcycles. Late one night, they were returning to La Push when another car surprised them around the bend. On their motorcycles, both Jacob and Bella swerved. And then something cracked and all she felt was an explosion of pain._

_When she regained consciousness, Bella found herself in a blinding white hospital room with faces hovering over her. Dried blood caked Jacob's body, but for some strange reason, he possessed no real wounds._

_"I'm sorry," he told her._

_She smiled weakly and drifted back into darkness._

_For the next several days, Bella was semi-conscious. Sometimes, she awoke to discover her parents crying by her bedside. Another time, she heard Jacob's enraged voice snarling, "What are you doing here, bloodsucker?"_

"At first, I thought you had come back to me," Bella says. "But it was Aro, a virtual stranger instead. He paid for my surgeries. One month in the hospital, six months trying to walk again. He didn't leave. My behavior was erratic and temperamental at best. Even my parents and Jacob could barely tolerate my mood swings. My doctors had given me morphine, you know, to relieve the pain, but that developed into an addiction. As soon as I was beyond supervision, I went out into the street and bought heroin."

_Bella didn't go back to school. When Aro located her again, she was lying on a stoop, high and out of her mind. Carefully, he carried her in his arms to his chauffeured car and took her to his penthouse._

_"Why me?" she asked him._

_"I hate to see wasted potential," Aro answered. _

_They traveled around the world in a succession of planes, boats, and camels. First, Mayan ruins in southern Mexico and Frida Kahlo's Blue House in Coyoacan. Their frenzied journey led to pyramids in Egypt, mountains in Nepal, and tea houses in Japan. In Paris, they spent days in the Louvre and d'Orsay, admiring ancient artifacts and Monet. Their last stop was a lesser known Italian town called Volterra. There, Aro finally revealed to her who he was and the secrets of the Volturi._

"And that basically is the end of the story," Bella concludes. "By the time we returned to the U.S., we were married, but I didn't want my parents or Jake to know. You see, the Bella they had known was quite erased so Aro made sure that the memory of her was removed from their minds.

"But I remember," Edward says, almost to himself.

Bella nods. "Yes, and what a problem you pose for me."


	5. Chapter 5

**Fallback**

**Part V:**

Here they are, two former lovers, one nostalgic and one trying to forget. She finds it odd that after just two years, they have run out of words to say to each other. Finally, Bella coughs lightly and announces that she has to meet a friend elsewhere. Edward's icy hand catches her wrist, and his intense gaze scorches across her.

"Are you happy with him?"

She doesn't lie. "Yes, I am. I've learned that I can live without true love. Sometimes, you have to settle for reality."

As she gets up to leave, she hears his low whisper. "I ask for forgiveness."

Bella shakes her head slightly. "It doesn't matter now. Goodbye Mr. Cullen."

_So it's true, _Edward realizes, _a man can lose everything in just one moment._

* * *

"Well, this is unexpected."

Silhouetted against the glass wall, the small figure turns to flash a cherubic smile at her and explains, "I've been ordered to investigate an incident down south."

Bella takes a step forward and pauses as if asking for permission before affectionately hugging the little boy.

"I'm glad you're here, Alec," she tells him. "As long as your demonic sister isn't here with you."

He shrugs. "Jane dislikes the States. She's an old soul."

"No, she's an evil soul," Bella asserts. "I can barely believe that you two are related. How are you so mellow when she's just…psychotic?"

Alec frowns. "I'm not exactly a saint, Bella. I can't even quell the thirst right now."

"Oh you're hungry," she says slowly. The tension always becomes unbearable when one of the many vampires in her life needs to hunt. She feels like an accomplice in a murder, agreeing to stay silent even when she knows someone's life is going to end very, very soon.

"I'll see you later then," Bella murmurs awkwardly and heads to her room.

Almost everything in her life right now is morally ambiguous. After all, she's married to a man who kills people every night, and she's no longer disgusted at seeing a spot of blood on Aro's otherwise immaculate clothing. Yes indeed, Bella has adapted to her husband's lifestyle.

Lying down on her bed, Bella muses to herself that her very relationship with her husband is ambiguous. Aro has stated more than twice that she is perfectly free to seek sexual relations with other humans, but he has also pulled her close and whispered that the nights were his and his alone. A relationship with Aro is not one of equal partners. There are two roles: the teacher and the student, the master and the slave. Aro possesses more knowledge than most libraries, and is constantly teaching her about art, music, and history. He criticizes her sketches, takes her to operas, and discusses philosophy with her. But his one true passion is time and the chronicling of events. Patiently, Bella teaches him about the modern century. She has demonstrated how to use all kinds of inventions from computers to cell phones.

As for Aro, he loves her in his own way, but he does not know her. For some inexplicable reason, his talent for reading thoughts cannot penetrate her mind. He has never found out about her relationship with Edward or that she has met vampires outside of the Volturi.

And Bella does not love Aro. She cannot love Aro, who is a murderer and a lover and a savior. However, she takes what he offers, consequences be damned.

* * *

"Wow, this one is amazing," Lola cries as she pulls out a sketch. "Who is he?"

They are in the studio because Heidi has refused to spend another moment with Lola, thus leaving Bella as the alternate female friend.

Bella regards the sketch with a creased brow. The drawing is of Edward, one of her better ones in fact, but she really doesn't want to be reminded of him right now.

"Uh, just some male model," Bella answers casually.

Actually, she doesn't mind Lola so much. The blond girl reminds her slightly of Jessica back in Forks, and Bella knows that having some human company is beneficial. Peering out the window, she decides that it's time to stop working.

"Hey, it's getting late," Bella mentions. "Are you going back to our place?"

"Nah, I have to meet Caius uptown," Lola replies. "See ya later."

As she walks outside, Bella can't help but think of the sketch again. _It's time to let go. I should burn all of the drawings._

She's still debating about whether or not to do it when she realizes that the guy across the street has not changed his route from hers for the past eight blocks. _Too early to panic._ Bella turns right and then glances discreetly behind her shoulder. The man crosses the street and follows her. Her pace quickens, and she makes random, sharp turns now. Still, the man's step echoes behind her.

_Shit, I should've taken a cab. _And Bella freezes in shock. The guy is somehow standing in front of her, his face obscured from sight by his tilted baseball cap. He chuckles, low and deep, and moves forward. A stinging, tingling feeling pricks her arms and travels up her body. This, she recognizes, is one of the special vampires, one whose gift she is not immune to.

"I'm a bit lazy, you see," the vampire tells her softly. "Why chase my prey when I can just paralyze them?"

He circles her once, twice before coming up close and grabbing her chin. "Now gimme a smile, pretty child."

He flourishes a pocketknife. Bella closes her eyes as the cold steel presses against her jaw.


	6. Chapter 6

**Fallback**

**Part VI (Inspired by House):**

_Long time no see, Death. _Bella thinks, but all she feels is the lack of fear. After all, she has married Death, has accepted Pluto's jewels and become his willing consort. But would Aro mourn her? Instinctively, she knows the answer is no. _What differentiates me from Lola? Does 'art' make me more than a pet? _

The vampire, his knife still skimming her throat, leans in and inhales…before staggering back. What surprises her more though is the vapor-thin vision that she has not seen in years. Edward Cullen, the ghost of days long past. This connection…she will never understand it, but she knows that the unearthly voice will never wish her ill so she listens.

_"Tell him who you are. Tell him that you have powerful friends."_

And Bella obeys. The tactic will buy her time. Perhaps, it will even scare this rogue away.

"You smell it, don't you?" she asks. "The scent of the vampire on me. It's not just any vampire. You've heard of the Volturi ,haven't you?"

The knife lowers an inch, and Edward's apparition instructs her again.

_"Remind him how the Volturi show their displeasure."_

Boldly, Bella grasps the dull edge of the knife and pushes it away. "My death will cause my patron, Aro, to feel quite irritated. You don't want to be the source of that irritation, do you?"

The vampire's eyes are scarlet, she notes. He hasn't eaten for days probably, but even hunger stalls as he considers her bluff.

"Get away from her."

The clipped voice is accompanied by the sound of stilettos on asphalt as Heidi strides into view. Clinically, Heidi gazes at the other vampire, and Bella remembers Aro explaining how even vampires lived within a social structure.

"Creatures like these, scrounging in alleyways like rats," Heidi sneers. "They need to be taught a little refinement."

Bella knows what's coming, and no one stops her from fleeing the alley. Only a couple of minutes later, Heidi catches up with her.

"Woah Bells! Shall we celebrate your near-death experience?"

Heidi's eyes are dilated, the irises a warm color like melted butter.

"I had a boy earlier today," she explains. "Rendez-vous in the club. High on meth. Delicious." Like a wicked child, she opens the clasp of her Chanel purse and pulls out a small bag. "I stole his stash, but it's not like he has any use for it anymore. All yours Bells. Don't tell Aro."

* * *

Like a restless animal, Bella paces in the hotel room. Heidi has left, but dots of meth remain on the desk. A red stain, spilt wine, trails down the left side of her shirt, and she moves barefoot, lighting candles and blowing them out to savor a few seconds of sweet, sensual scent.

_I shouldn't have called him. Shouldn't have. Shouldn't have._

An insistent, persistent knock on the door breaks through her thoughts, and then a muffled word that sounds like her name.

It is her name, and it's Edward when she opens the door, and it's not a dream, not a dream, she waves him in and then pushes him to the bed. His hands are resistant, and with tears in her voice, she asks _Why Why do you still not want me?_

"You're high," Edward says. Always so solemn, always so saintly.

"You're so moral," Bella replies and envelops him until she can no longer differentiate his smell from that of the candles. She is inviting, and he is…gradually accepting. Slowly, they build heat or have they knocked the candles over? The whole room could be burning, but Bella feels as if she were a new baby star, supernova, molten lava, desperate to shed the heat onto him. Heart pounding, she looks up at him and gasps,

"Are you real? Am I making a fool of myself? Maybe…I'm just making love to a pillow."

And he pulls back, shame creasing his face.

"You shouldn't do that," she murmurs against his ear. "Gives you wrinkles."

He laughs without joy, but even she can feel that the atmosphere has changed.

"You're high," he repeats and untangles himself from her. For a moment, she holds back her breath because he disappears, but then he returns with a wet towel and wipes her face.

"I'm not leaving," Edward promises, and this time, he doesn't.


End file.
